Few people can say they’re a world champion, but when I discovered toe wrestling at 14, I knew I’d claim the title one day. There have been broken toes, blood, plenty of sweat and even tears, but 21 years later, at 35, I’m proud to say I knocked the 17-time champion into retirement and claimed my rightful spot. It’s like arm wrestling, but with your feet. The battle takes place on a specially built podium, or “toedium”, that has two walls on either side. You lock your toes in there, and it’s the best of three until someone’s foot or toe is pushed down on to the wall. I take it very seriously – I’m a world champion, so I have to. The sport was founded in a pub in my home town of Wetton, Derbyshire, in 1974. As a county, we were awful at sports. Over a couple pints, a group decided to change that, and started up a local sport we might have a chance at. The World Toe Wrestling Championships are running to this day. The championships are held every August in the Haig Bar in Derbyshire and run by me and my arch toe-wrestling enemy, but also good pal, Alan “Nasty” Nash, a 17-time world champion. By 1975, a Canadian had won it, throwing a Derbyshire lad off the title spot. We have had people from all over the globe winning it since then, but I’m glad I could reclaim it as a local all these years later. Growing up, I would watch wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the men in the pub fighting for the precious bronze-cast trophy, which is in the shape of a foot. It was hilarious, and the pub was always packed with more than 100 people. In 2006, the ice-cream company Ben & Jerry’s had bought the trademark for the sport, and sponsored the events. But, in 2016, Alan and I bought the trademark from them; having the championship back in our hands is probably the best thing that’s happened to us. We have made it bigger and bigger each year, with more advertising and more spectators. I’ve always been interested in weird and wonderful championships, such as cheese chasing and bog snorkelling. Toe wrestling is our version. I’ve competed each year since I was 14, first in the junior championships, then later in the adult category from 18. It took me a bit of time to fine-tune my technique. Some matches last for up to two hours and there are 10 to 20 competitors. It’s unbelievable the strength that some people have in their toes. Being a toe wrestler does have its downsides: it can be very painful, toes can break, and you can get blisters and sore knees. As with any contact sport, you have to be careful of hygiene, too – there can be fungal infections, verrucas or warts. Four years ago, to get a competitive advantage, I got my big toenail surgically removed. It would dig in when competing and was a hindrance, so it was time for it to go. Things were a lot easier after that. My friends call me “Toe-tal Destruction”. Alan used something called a toe stretcher for training – it stretches out the ligaments between the toes. He also used to remove his body hair so that he’d have more friction and grip on the stage. Being the toe-wrestling world champion feels like being an Olympian: I can say that I’ve won a gold medal. Winning was the best feeling I’ve had for a very long time. It was in the middle of August 2022, there were five rounds each, which took a few minutes, then I faced off with Alan in the final event. That took about 20 minutes. I have video footage of me after I beat Alan. I’m roaring with joy. I’d tried to beat him for so many years; he was the fiercest competitor around. I got up off the floor and screamed with pure relief – I’d finally done it. Beating him was a massive weight off my shoulders, and I took a lot of joy in the fact that I used his own techniques and tricks against him. He didn’t take it too hard – he even bought me a pint. Regardless of whom I compete with, or lose to, this year, I can walk around proudly and say I was once a world champion. No one can take that title away. As told to Elizabeth McCafferty